The Child of the Guardian began to run.
Each stride sent powerful tremors through the ground, rattling the cart violently. I could hear the ground breaking under its steps. The sound grew steadily louder, closer, a clear sign of how quickly the creature was gaining on us. My pulse raced even faster, thoughts tumbling chaotically. Why had it started chasing us? Clearly, the turning point was when my wound had opened—was it the blood itself, or perhaps the wendigo toxin?
The cart jolted violently, wheels skipping and catching against the uneven terrain. Every movement slammed my injured shoulder, igniting fresh waves of pain, sharper and deeper than before. Blood seeped steadily through the bandage, warm and sickening against my skin.
I sat helpless, each bump blurring my vision, my breath tight and shallow. My fingers dug into the bench, nails splintering wood, frustration and anger twisting my insides.
A deafening roar split the air. I turned just in time to see the creature leap—massive, unstoppable. It soared toward us, jaws open wide, claws extended.
Then, impossibly, its leap ended midair, like it had run out of strength halfway through the leap. It crashed down with a brutal impact, throwing up a cloud of dust and debris, roaring furiously from the ground.
Namur twisted back sharply, eyes wide. "Azel! How many more times?"
Azel's face was pale, drawn with effort. He raised two trembling fingers.
"Two" Namur repeated grimly.
Before the words could fully settle, Gamir's voice shouted urgently from the front, raw with strain:
"From the sides! The fragments—they're coming!"
Twisted shapes burst from the reeds—smaller, warped versions of the creature we had just seen. Some jumped, others crawled low to the ground, climbing over each other in a frenzied rush toward the cart. Their claws dug into the wooden sides, scraping and pulling. They snarled, a mix of choking and hissing, the sound raw and desperate. They were fast, angry, and too many.
Namur and Azel moved instantly. Their blades flashed in the moonlight—so fast I could barely follow. Fragments fell in pieces, sliced clean through with brutal precision.
I could hear fighting at the front of the cart too—shouts, the thud of strikes, something crashing hard. Gamir was battling as well.
Green blood sprayed from the wounds, splashing across the canopy and cart walls. I saw it hit, then heard the sound—a sharp sizzle, followed by a slow, bubbling hiss.
The cloth above us began to melt. Where it touched wood, the surface blackened, cracked, and started to burn away.
Only then did I realize—their blood was acid.
Panic surged in my chest. My hand reached instinctively toward a sword lying nearby.
Namur's voice cut through my haze of pain, loud and firm:
"Don't move! Do nothing!"
I froze—fury and shame tearing through me. Useless. I clenched my fist so hard blood welled from my palm. It felt unbearable.
The creature behind us roared again, launching itself forward once more.
Namur drew a sharp breath, panic edging into his voice. Still fighting, he turned toward Azel and shouted—urgent, desperate.
"Azel!"
He flicked his finger fast, tracing an invisible line. The beast collapsed mid-air again, crashing into the dirt just feet behind the cart. It snarled—a guttural, frustrated cry.
Azel's face looked drained, even paler than before.
Could he still hold them off much longer?
Namur turned his head toward him, jaw tight with tension.
"Azel, focus! Don't slip now… if that thing gets inside, we're dead!"
Before I could think further, the cart slammed into a deep rut, jolting hard enough to lift me halfway off the bench. The violent motion sent agony exploding through my shoulder, blinding and unbearable. The whole frame lurched heavily, wood snapping and splintering as something beneath us gave way, each crack echoing sharply through my pain.
I heard Gamir shout from the front, his voice strained and raw as he urged the oxen forward.
"Damn it… this won't hold much longer!" he called, every word edged with urgency.
Right after the impact from the rut, I saw Azel strike again. The cart's sudden shift made him stagger—he almost lost his footing. Still, he swung his blade and sliced through another fragment. But the imbalance had left him exposed. He couldn't dodge in time. Acidic blood sprayed from the creature's corpse and struck his arm.
His face contorted sharply, lips pressed tightly together, eyes widening in silent agony. Smoke rose immediately from his burned skin, the pain clear in every strained muscle of his face.
The Child of the Guardian closed the gap, unstoppable now. Azel struggled, fingers twitching, but he was too slow, weakened by pain.
I saw it leap again—but this time, nothing stopped it. The beast slammed onto the roof with brutal force. The frame groaned beneath its weight, and the entire cart shuddered violently—groaning, barely holding together. The canvas tore apart in an instant, exposing the starry sky above—cold, distant, indifferent.
Gamir spun at the sound of the impact. "What happened—?"
The words died in his throat. Like the rest of us, he froze.
The creature filled our entire view—its presence overwhelming. My breath stuck painfully in my chest. Its two mouths were clearly visible and terrifyingly close. The main jaw opened wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth gleaming in the starlight. Below, the vertical second mouth dripped thick, vile fluid, adding to the horror of the sight.
And even though it had no eyes, I felt it was staring straight at me—unblinking, aware, focused. It roared again—deep and violent—and then lunged at me, claws tearing through the air.
Each motion was fast, heavy, and brutal, aimed straight at where I sat.
Azel, wounded and shaking, spun to face it. Rage flared in his eyes, bright and unyielding. With his still-smoking hand, he struck himself squarely in the chest.
Power erupted from him in an explosive wave. It slammed into the beast, throwing it and the remaining fragments violently backward into the reeds. They vanished instantly, their cries fading quickly into the distance.
Namur's voice rang out clearly, urgency sharp and commanding: "Gamir, now!"
The cart surged forward with renewed speed, wheels churning against the earth.
I lay motionless, heart hammering, breath ragged. The image of the Child of the Guardian's two gaping mouths remained burned vividly in my mind.